The Prep Work

My first trip to Ghana was spontaneous. I did not have a lot of time to prepare for the journey. I gave myself 6 weeks to get all of my documents in order. That was an interesting turn of events.

"I went to the "Travel Clinic" to get my Yellow Fever inoculation. I was in a room with several people who would be traveling to some exotic part of the world. I was excited for my trip. I would live half way across the world in order to learn something I love, weaving. As I sit in the room gabbing about our travels my name was called. The nurse practitioner was full of information about traveling to a third world country. She handed me a brochure and began to prep the shot. It burned a little but nothing like the Hep A. They require you to sit there under observation for 20 minutes to make sure you're not going to have an adverse reaction. I didn't, at lease not within 20 minutes.

On my drive home I began to feel ill. My body was weak and I could barely hold my arms up to steer the car. By the time I got home, I had Yellow Fever. I had cold chills. I was running a fever and had cold sweats. There I was, in bed under several blankets shivering. Dare I eat? I didn't try it. I stayed positive thinking to myself better now then over there. By morning I was a little dehydrated but well.

Next came the passport. Is this an omen? I applied for my passport in plenty of time to get it back (so I thought). It was delayed. I had to prove my identity. This is what happens when you're too lazy to change your drivers licence to your new name. I was in a panic, I was scheduled leave in 1 week. I overnighted the docs to the Feds and said a little prayer. Is Kente Cloth worth all of this. I know how to weave. Of course it was, don't be silly.

I checked the passport website daily. Finally, I called. I was told it was overnighted and I was given a tracking number. It's at the Post Office. Immediately I drove to the Post Office. "Oh, it's at the Main Office. It will not be here until tomorrow. Apparently overnight is a 2 day process in a rural community. I explained to the clerk that I was leaving the next day and my passport is in the package. (Probably not a smart move I later thought) She said she would leave a note for the morning crew to pull it when it was scanned. She also gave me their direct phone number to the loading dock. She told me the morning crew got in at 4 am I left a little deflated. I'll just change my ticket, I thought. But inside I was bumbed.

I couldn't sleep all night. If my passport was not there, I would not be able to leave. I loaded my suitcases into the car. I had to be at the airport by 11 am, my flight left at 1:30 pm. I knew I had to do all the post 911 stuff. Plus, I forgot to mention that I did not have a VISA. Since I didn't get my passport in time, I couldn't apply for my VISA.

I called the Post Office at 4:30 am. They answered. I told him who I was, YES! they pulled it. I left the house around 5 am and went to the back door of the Post Office. After knocking on the steel door a pudgy man lets me in. I sign for my package and walked to the car. The moment my butt hit the seat, I ripped open the Overnight envelope. There it was the crisp, blue book I had longed to see. Up to this point everything had gone relatively smoothly. I even had time to stop for breakfast before going to the airport.

I wasn't out of water just yet. What will happen when I get to the airport without a VISA?

Weaving In Ghana, West Africa

I went to Ghana, West Africa, to learn to weave their traditional cloth, Kente. I never had a desire to go to Africa, outside of Egypt, but the challenge of learning a new style of weaving really appealed to me. I had no preconceived notions of what it would be like or would I be accepted, I just wanted to weave. I had no desire to get in touch with my "African roots" or pretend to understand the culture. I was fascinated with their weaving structures.

I didn't speak the language nor did I know the cultural quirks, but I felt compelled to go. It was almost like I was being drawn to this cloth. So, I packed my bags and went to the village of Adanwomasi in Ghana to become an Ashanti Master Weaver. This village is in the Ashanti region. Although I was trained in both the Ewe and the Ashanti style of weaving. The Ashanti style Kente is what one thinks of a "Kente Cloth."

This endeavor would prove challenging. First, women don't weave, period. I would have to convince the tribe to allow me to learn ALL of the techniques in weaving this cloth. Trust me, this was no easy feat. Some men of the tribe that were not happy about me learning and the women were appalled, but more about that later. Plus, I had to cross the language barrier. Most people speak a "broken English" but, I had to learn enough Twi to do my day to day tasks. I was required to stay there for 3 months in order receive a certification and the title "Ashanti Master Weaver."

I hope to share with you the joys, trials and tribulations I experienced while receiving my certification. Hopefully I can inspire you to step out of your comfort zone and try something new.